There Goes the Neighbourhood
by Shirahoshi
Summary: Pre-Avengers/Thor/Iron Man. In the year 1986, Howard and Maria Stark died in a car accident. There was only one thing Tony had to do to inherit his father's business; living as a "commoner" for six months... With an Asgardian god who decided he had had enough and seeked refugee on Earth.
1. Not so welcome news

"Repeat that again," said Tony shocked. The man coughed.

It was an annoying cough. And ominous. Two things that the young Stark didn't like at all.

"Here stands that you can only succeed to the company and all it's incomings if you will live for half a year without constantly getting drunk, taking women to your bed, partying or any serious accident that might damage the name Stark. In the meanwhile you cannot use the money you made from your inventions; you have to look for a job outside mechanics and engineering. In the meantime his partner will be left in charge of the company; if you still fail to do what he said in his will after three years, it shall be sold."

Tony's eyes darkened.

"Howie. Still trying to make my life miserable from across the grave?"

"A moment, mister. He has appointed somebody to be the judge of that." A cold feeling started to creep up along his spine.

"And what does that mean?"

"That you will have to live with him."

"What? Me and another guy I don't even know?"

"Well," said the man, "Apparently your father trusts, or rather, trusted his judgement."

"Uh, yeah, sure. I'm not doing this."

"In that case, Mister Stark, I'm sure the competent companies will be delighted to take over Stark Industries."

Tony felt like biting into a lemon. Sure thing, he didn't give two cents for Howie's part, but since he graduated from the university, Stark Industries and the money from it made possible several of his babies.

He hadn't considered that.

"Okay," he said, "Take me to him."

The elderly grinned, as if knowing that this would be his final answer.

Oh, just how much he wanted to punch the guy...

* * *

"Is that it?" he asked, disdaindful. His companion nodded.

"Third floor."

"Which door?"

"All of it."

"All? As in..."

"The whole level, yes. He bought it."

"Oh, well. Here goes nothing," muttered Tony, climbing out from the car.

There was no lift.

No surprise, really. Only three floors and a really old house. Yet, why make him climb when he didn't even want to do it in the first place?

He knocked, not failing to notice the strange carvings at the bottom of the door.

Great goodness. A weirdo.

The floor creaked somewhere behind the door and he could hear the rattle of chains, before it opened, revealing a man good three inches taller than himself, whom he would have sooner called vampire than a living human.

"Tony Stark," he said, offering his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

* * *

_Yes. Howard does "want" to make your life miserable. Or just to make you learn some humbleness._

_A shorter chapter than I wanted it to be._


	2. Welcome to Midgard

**1958, Northern Europe**

Crashlanding, Loki decided, was not the way of arrival he prefered. Especially not into a huge block of ice and snow.

Although he had only himself to blame. Since he didn't use the path for a long time, he forgot to re-calculate the distance, the changing odds and the energy needed to teleport. Whatever.

He had been playing around with the idea of leaving Asgard forever, but this evening was what gave him the final push.

Those ungrateful bastards.

It had already not been a good day;in themorning he had to drag with himself a half-dead Thor and Fandrall, while healing them the best he could while Volstagg leaning onto Sif and Hogun for support.

Being as depleted of energy as he was, all he could care about was his ruined shirt when they got back to the Realm Eternal. It didn't matter that this could've been solved by magic later on.

And after Thor had just been healed, the All-Father had arranged a feast in celebration of their "victory".

"And then," Fandrall laughed, tears flowing from his face, "And then he got on his knees and begged like a woman..."

"What do you mean by that, Fandrall?" asked Sif with an edge in her tone.

"Nothing, fair lady. Merely a turn of speech."

"Keep them to yourself." Loki's knuckles turned white, forcing down the urge to turn the chicken leg in Fandrall's hand into something with eight legs, sharp teeth and a lot of hair. Preferably poisonous.

"I do not understand why are you so surprised," spoke up Volstagg, after having regained his ability to speak, "someone who relies this much on tricks..."

The torches blazed up with green light as the two warriors were thrown back by an invisible force. The guests immediately fell silent; good. Serves them right.

Loki stood up, trembling with anger, but still managed a stiff bow to the All-Father.

"With your leave," he said, then left the Hall and left Asgard, after he put all his belongings into a pocket dimension.

The lot of them would have been sitting at the feast headless if it wasn't for him, and him alone!

Yet, he should have known better than teleporting while upset. Magic is sensitive to the users emotions; making hasty decisions led to more then one good sorcerer's death.

And it would have led to his, if it wasn't for that mortal. Well. Mortals.

"Are you all right?" the man asked, while helping him to sit up. The woman clicked her tongue.

"I'm not sure you should move him."

"Yes, well, he isn't screaming in pain, right? That means no damage is done."

"He is lying in a crater."

"No big damage. Happy?"

"We should call a doctor or somebody."

Doctor. Midgardian healer.

He wasn't sure, but last he checked Midgardians have evolved enough to recognise he was not one of them.

"No doctor. Please."

The man eyed him carefully.

"Your arm is broken and there is a deep gash in your shoulder."

"They will heal. The..." he coughed, "The greatest danger I was in was drowning, was the snow to melt. Now everything is all right."

"All right? I don't know. Is it? You come out of nowhere like some meteor, crash into this piece of ice, yet you are not bothered by the fact that your arm is broken, you're bleeding and that it is well below zero. Hey, are you even listening to me?"

"No, in fact, I do not," he said struggling to stand up, regretting the decision as nausea hit him.

"I don't think that it's the wisest..." He fell, the world darkening rapidly before him. The last thing he heard was "Suicidal brat".

A suicidal brat of three-thousand nineteen-hundred and one years.

* * *

** Yes, we jumped back a few years. Sorry. That's just how this story goes.**


	3. A whole new world

He had woken to darkness.

"Thor, please, stop pounding with Mjollnir on my head," he said half-whispering, still groggy.

Yet, it didn't stop. Maybe it wasn't Thor after all?

And then everything flooded backt to him.

He jumped up, noticing the painfully obvious lack of his leather armour, startling a man who seemingly dozed off.

The very same one who was in the forest with that woman.

"Hey," he said, trying to sound calm, but the twitch at his eyebrows made it known that he was disturbed by the dagger Loki conjured up. "Take it easy. We have patched you up and set your arm, but even if they do heal abnormally quickly, you do not want to re-open your wounds again, do you?"

"Where am I?" Loki snarled.

"Obviously, not a hospital. You seemed quite frightened by the possibility, so we didn't take you there. Peggy didn't like the idea, but seems like we have made a good decision, or they'd be stabbing you with needles by now," the man said, leaning back.

"Why would you do that?"

"Possibly what bad outcome would happen? I mean, taking you to a hospital, them realising you're not human, tests after tests, then you get out, after my blood." Ah. Sarcasm. Kind of.

"How do you know I'm not human?"

"You turned blue."

Now, he couldn't decide whether the man was joking or not. He narrowed his eyes.

"No, really, you did, but you turned pink ten seconds later. Other than that tell me one Homo Sapiens who would survive such an impact."

"What's a homo sapiens?"

The man clapped.

"There you go. I take it, you were running from somewhere; at least you've been in a hurry towards Earth. Which means you're a criminal, or simply somebody who had enough. So... We'll have to get you accustomed to Earth. How about choosing a cover name first?"

"Why would you help me?"

"Because," said a voice from the door. The woman. "Our mutual friend we were looking for would have done so. And we won't let get his name stained by the fact that two people he was close to didn't help somebody who needed it."

Her eyes blased with the need to do something.

Something that will get her mind off of some more pressing matters, Loki decided. She strode over to his bed.

"So. He is Howard Stark..."

"I can introduce myself!" the man complained, but the woman paid no mind.

"And my name is Peggy Carter. What's yours?"

"Loki Odinson." Stark raised an eyebrow.

"So... You say you're that fella in the Norse mithology?"

"I have no idea what Norse is, but I suppose I am."

Howard whistled.

"We _were _right not to take you to a hospital."

To his own surprise, he actually enjoyed the company of the two. Both were intelligent, in their own rights - and neither of them has ever judged him. Harshly. Except for the one accident with a taxi driver.

But all in all, he owed them. A lot. Without the two, he might have found himself in a bigger road surrounded by corpses. Because, although they did evolve, one human was enough sometimes to drive you over the edge.

The vehicles caused him one of the greatest shocks; metallic carriages with four wheels (cars, was it?) and no horses in sight. It made him feel embarassed that seemingly they have left Asgard behind, even if they lacked magic.

But they made up for it in their imagination. Like the small boxes that allowed you to speak with somebody else through great distances. And the moving pictures... Those are absolutely marvellous.

One thing worried him, though. As time passed, his friends (and it felt good saying this) became more and more troubled; not even Howard's marriage (where he was the best man) was entirely without this sort of dark mood.

From which he had his fair share as well.

Nobody was looking for him or even trying to check whether he was all right. Once or twice he thought he had spied Hugin or Munnin in the corner of his eye, but they turned out to be normal ravens. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, and anger.

It wasn't like he was surprised, though. Probably they had even thrown a feast in their joy; the All-Mother and the All-Father absent, as befitting the situation, but Thor would be there, after some talking with his friends.

You'd think that somebody at least would ask where did the second prince go, and why.

Yet, the years passed; he was fired from several jobs because of his "unacceptable behaviour" before finally settling; he got several invitations from underworld groups and the mutant resistance to join them (keeping his origins a secret as well as possible, some information still leaked out); Peggy decided to spend more time with her family and was now travelling around in Europe; and Howard became a dad. _That_ was unexpected.

"And what's the problem?" Loki asked, when an aggravated Howard appeared in his flat. "You wanted an heir to inherit your business, did you not?"

"Yes, but not so soon. I'm not..."

"Ready for it? If you say that again, I'll beat you well and thorougly. You're already married, she is with a child, you're financially well situated and your business is doing just fine."

"I'm not a kid's person."

"I did notice that. Just... Do not neglect him." The man sighed.

"It's not only that." Loki arched an eyebrow.

"Then what?"

"We're targeted. Both with the industries coming up too soon for the liking of the rivals and as founders of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"I did tell you that it was a bad idea."

"Yes, yes," Howard waved, "Anyway, what I want to say is... If we die in the next fourty years in any way that is unnatural, then there is ninety percent change that we have been murdered."

"And what do you want me to do? Avenge your death?"

Stark laughed.

"No, God, not at all. It would be irrational to ask this from the god of mischef who takes no sides. I only want you to help the cops to catch the bastards, even if they do not know you are helping. And if it happens within the next ten years... Take care of Tony."

"I... Might not be suitable for that."

"You like kids better than I do."

"Anybody you ask on the street likes kids better than you. And Tony? You've already chosen a name for him?"

"Not I. Maria. He's to be Anthony, in honor of her father. Or Antonia. If it's a girl. That would be easier."

Loki grinned.

"Oh, you poor, poor, naive soul."

* * *

**Sorry for the OOC-ness. **

**Yes. Howard is naive. Loki knows this, because in one of his previous lives he was the father of the Queen of the dead and did grew up with Sif and Amora. And a few other girls.**

**There was a timejump here, in case it's not clear. The beginning is still 1958, but the end is set in 1964, Autumn.**


	4. All Beginnings Are Rough

It was the same day when father and son came to him. Only, a few years apart. The fact that he was included in Howard's will reached him only a few weeks ago; when he was still alive.

At least that answered why was he so tense throughout the day.

Sixth sense, some people call it.

He had just gotten back from examining what remained of the cars. Not much remained, but luckily the plate numbers did. Better than nothing.

He pulled off his gloves (not like he needed them - only it would have been weird to go out without them when all people were desperately trying to hide theirs from the biting wind), throwing them and his coat unceremoniously onto the couch.

He just couldn't care after a day like this.

As it turns out, trying not to kill Midgardians when forced to serve them takes a toll on an Asgardian. (Although if the looks on his fellow workers face were anything to go by, it's hard even for those who is one of them by birth.)

Yes, he was instructed not to serve tap-water. Is that so hard to understand? Yes, it's an idiotic instruction, he knows that, and the restaurant does charge a ridiculous amount for all the other beverages, but neither of it is his fault.

In the end the guests left, fuming, and he barely could stop them in the door for they have "forgotten" to pay. At least the younger son tried to be polite during the whole ordeal, and paid in midst of apologies, shame faced.

He put the tea-pot onto the stove, lighting the fire with magic. Seriously, if Midgardians would still remember the ancient ways, their lives would be a lot less stressful. And in turn, it would make the lives of Asgardian gods living on their Realm easier as well.

The shift in magic warned him seconds before the youngest Stark knocked.

He knew it has to be him. His and his father's signature energies were just way too similar. He opened the door.

"Tony Stark. It's nice to meet you," he said, offering his hand. The man reluctantly took it.

If he thinks about that this man had been only a three-years old toddler when he last saw him... Loki smiled.

"Please. Do come in."

"Actually, I was thinking whether we could spare ourselves of all of this," Stark said, "I'm a busy man, and I'm sure you are as well. So what do you say? You, telling the lawyers that you've found me fitting, so we could get on with our lives?"

"No."

The man shrugged, picking up his pack and brushed past him.

"Well. It was worth a shot." So he was already expecting a refusal. Interesting. "You're younger than I expected," Tony said. Loki raised an eyebrow as the other man strode across the livingroom in his muddy shoes.

"A lot of people say that."

"Then here is the thing, uhh..."

"Luke O'brian."

"Foreigner. Even better," scoffed Stark, "You leave me alone. In turn I'll leave you alone. You do not enter my room for this six hellish months. We'll pretend we cannot see each other. By the end, you'll tell them what a great guy I was, blah blah. I'll pay you, once I got the company."

Why did the way he said it sounded so familiar?

"No," he said. "That's not the rules we play by."

"Excuse me?"

"You're always looking for the easy way. That's why Howard entrusted you to me."

"Entrusted? Let's get one thing clear. I'm not a dog to be entrusted to somebody else if the owner dies. I say, you let me leave without all this fucked up thing!"

"I'm afraid I cannot do that," Loki said, his body rigid.

"Oh, pray tell what's stopping you?" Stark said, mockingly. "Afraid that he'll blow up your flat? He's dead for heaven's sake."

"Let's see... Law, for one."

"I could pay anybody to keep their mouthes about it."

"And a promise."

"Well, aren't you an honorable one," said Stark, rolling his eyes. The corner of Loki's lips trembled. "That's not something I'm usually accused of."

Tony growled, spun on his heels and yanked a door open, storming inside. The noises and the pained cries informed Loki that it was not a bedroom. Sometimes he forgets the trick doors himself...

* * *

**Yeah. Trick doors. I think it is something that he would do to give one hell of a time if somebody would break in. Although the runes are exactly there for preventing there... But if one of them is destroyed, it's gone for good.**

**As always, sorry for the OOC-ness... I had no idea, how should this chapter go. I only had the beginning and the ending... **


	5. Dirty Little Creatures

What Loki didn't expect, like, ever, that somebody would want to compete with him for the title "God of Mischief". Okay, there was that one case with Azapane, but that was another matter entirely...

Stark seemed to be hell bent on making his life a misery, in return for his father making both of their lives a misery.

Loki will have words with Howard once he got into the afterlife. Which, even if an Asgardian, ever since Tony moved in seemed to crawl closer and closer.

His attacks ranged from the childish tricks to those causing serious troubles. At least Loki would know when he could await one, from the smug expression on his face; the problem was finding out exactly what kind of problem will he have to face next time.

The less-dangerous ones included filling his shampoo with honey, or replacing the pictures in his flat.

But then he also tended to hide his car keys.

The scolding he got from the manager wasn't funny at all. Except for Stark of course.

Speaking of work and Stark...

"You should get a job."

Tony flipped the page of the newspaper.

"I'll pass, thank you."

Loki's eyes narrowed.

"Let me rephrase that - you must get a work if you ever wish to take over Stark Industries."

"Oooh, blackmailing now, are we?"

"No, simply stating the fact that you won't be leeching off me."

"I wouldn't, if Howard wouldn't have frozen my bank account."

"It was under his name your work came out; his company that allowed you to do them; basically that was his money."

Stark stuck his tongue out, but the next day Loki came home, he wasn't there.

He returned later, sporting a ridiculous blonde hair and clean-shaved face

"Don't look at me like that. I didn't dye it. It's just a wig."

"Fantastic."

"What? I couldn't let them recognise me. Tony Stark the pizza delivery..."

He bite the end off abruptly.

So. Tony Stark the pizza delivery boy? Something nobody would have ever expected.

How he got the fake identity to work, he didn't care. After all, he was using one himself.

Everything seemed to be going well.

Then, the desperate phone call came from the landlady of the rest of the house.

"You have to come home," sha babbled half-crazy from worry. Then something sounded like as if it had been crashed.

The manager, although he wasn't happy, understood it.

"Sounds like something my half-brother would do," he said, scowling. "Go, by all means. But you'll have to take a double shift on Monday."

So now here he was, standing in front of the building by the side of Mrs. Norris, who was ready to faint any second as music blasted through the windows.

One question was running through Loki's mind - how on Earth did they get in?

It was answered when he glanced the door. Well, what remained of it.

He was glad that due to Mrs. Norris' bad experiences with the police she had yet to call them. He'd have had a hard time explaining why were people going in through a door, then coming out soaking wet, or muddy.

And he wasn't about to be questioned about Tony's guest either for they were obviously high.. On what, he didn't want to know.

An unwelcome little noise started to grow in the back of his head but at the moment he elected to ignore it, then stepped through the had-been-a-door, fighting himself through the crowd, looking for the one who caused all of this.

Ah. There the one sat, on his favourite couch.

Making out with some blonde.

On his couch.

_His_.

He ripped the two apart, for the moment being forgetting everything he had learnt about being a courteous prince.

"What," he demanded, "Is the meaning of this?"

Stark gave him a confused glance. Damn right under the influence of alcohol.

"What is the meaning of what?"

"This," Loki said, motioning with his hand around. "I thought that your that and _I _were crystal clear on what are the rules if you want your company."

The woman giggled, nipping on Tony's neck.

"Oh, relax. You're like some old man. They're just friends. Having a good time."

Laughter erupted as something crashed.

The glass table. The first thing he had ever bought from his first wage ever.

"Having a good time, eh?" he whispered to himself as all the sockets started sparkling accompanied by a few surprised shrieks.

"I advise you leave now," Loki said, voice colder than the winds of Jottunheim. "Or I will have to take... Desperate measurements."

"Ah, yeah, so what?" barked some youngster back at him, just in his arm's reach, "It's Tony's place; we leave when he tells us to!"

He wasn't so talkative hanging in the air, feet off the ground.

"In case I didn't make myself clear, I want you to leave _my _place. Now."

The crowd _finally _started to move, only Stark's woman and the man himself sat there, with his mouth hanging open.

"Do you have any idea what did you just do?!" he shrieked after he found his tongue.

"_Enlighten _me, if you would."

"You've just killed my social life!" His voice started to reach higher notes.

"And you've killed my table."

Tony glared at him for a long moment.

"You know what? Forget it. Forget me. My dad. His will. I've known Obie since I was two. I can work this out."

And then he walked out, too, followed by the woman, who gave Loki a toothy smile. A way too sharp one.

Loki froze.

He doubted that vampires are any better news on Midgard than on Asgard

* * *

**The waves of school projects and tests are crashing above my head. Not a fun feeling. (I hate it. Especially the English exams. They always limit my creativity when it comes to writing. Yeah, my works might not be grammatically correct, but if I have so much fun writing them...)**

**Azapane is an African god of mischief. That's what Google says.**

**Yes. Blond. With blue contacts. Like in Tropic Thunder. (There were blue contacts back then, right? ****_Right_****? If not, my bad.**)


	6. And Here We Go

Tony was drunk.

The interesting thing was, unlike most people he knew when he was drunk. He knew that he'd be making the wrong decisions. Even so, that didn't stop him.

So when Alayaya (what kind of name is that?) invited him to her "special" place, he didn't protest.

Even though some sixth sense was yelling at him that something is off about her.

"How much longer?" he asked, impatient.

"Not much," she said, leading him through alleyways he didn't even know they existed.

"It must be a really special place if you're willing to go this far here."

"Oh, it is, trust me."

He did. Did he?

Not likely.

And then she stopped.

"We're here." Tony glanced around, grinning.

"One place where I've never done it before..."

And then Alayaya spun around, her hand shot out like a snake, pressing him against the damp stone walls.

"Will you _never_ shut up?"

Tony squirmed.

"Let me... Go... Please? I can't... Breath..."

"That's all?" rumbled a deep voice. Tony up, fighting against the darkness that started to fall over his eyes. The man was tall, and by all means ugly; and sporting two rather sharp looking fangs.

And red-glowing eyes.

With huge dry red dots dried on his trench coat, that could be only blood.

It's interesting how sobering that can be.

In his dizziness, a word ran through his head: vampires.

In a situation like this, it was the best answer he could come up with, as unlikely as it is.

"Be grateful that I could bring this much. A norse god is in town."

"Aren't they supposed to be crammed up in their pretty little city? What's he doing here?"

"How should I know? Didn't stay around long enough to ask. But from the looks of it he is playing "being human"."

"Which one?"

"Either Loki or Hogun. There aren't too many of them with black hair," Alayaya weakened her grip and blood started to rush back into Tony's head.

"Who cares which one?" barked a newcomer, "I say we eat, and worry about 'im later."

"I-I-I have to warn you. My blood tastes horrible."

The blonde put a finger on his mouth.

"Sweetheart. Let _us_ be the judges of that."

Green light flared and something scorching passed right before Tony.

"Such a party and you didn't invite me?"

"Luke!" Tony exclaimed loudly, before the male vamp grabbed him by the throat.

Why always his throat?

"Don't move, Trickster," he hissed, "Or your friend is dead."

Loki looked at him, his face devoid of any emotion.

"Go on. Kill him."

"What?"

"I thought you came to save me!" Tony yelled, to which the man (if he was human at all so the term man can be appropriate) crossed his arms.

"You made rather clear you wish not to do anything with me. I'm only here to kill this lot."

"Fantastic, then save me in the meanwhile, if you would!"

Tony yelped as the vamp pulled him closer.

"I said, don't move!"

"I didn't," somebody whispered behind.

Vamp guy spun, leaving a thin red line on Tony's neck...

And the next moment his head was rolling on the ground, face still set in a vicious snarl, thanks to the _goddamnitbutisthata_ sword his (ex?) landlord was holding.

Tony's jaw fell as his head snapped back and forth between the two Lukes.

"You? How? Do you have a twin or something."

Luke raised an eyebrow.

"Not that I know of. It's merely a duplicate. See?"

And with a wave of his hand he dissolved the other him.

Before pushing Tony onto the ground as he turned around gracefully, decapitating two other vamps in the meanwhile then pulling him up, laying him across his shoulders before he started to run.

Never ever before Tony thought he could be so ashamed as in this moment.

"I can run by myself! Put me down!" he yelled, punching Loki in the back.

It felt like hitting a rock.

"You're too slow!"

"Put me down! Now!"

"You keep hitting me, I'll leave you here as a snack!"

Something whistled past Tony's ears.

"They have a gun!"

"I am aware!"

"Then do something about it!"

Luke came to a halt and Tony found himself flying into something soft. A door snapped closed and a motor came to life with a roar.

The backseat of a car.

"Sit up like a normal human being, if you would," Luke barked at him.

"Hey... You... How? You didn't have time for getting around the car!"

"I didn't." Tony facepalmed.

"Another duplicate, was it? You didn't even come for me yourself?"

"Who do you take me for, Captain America? In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly the hero type. Be happy I came at all."

"I feel honored, your majesty," Tony growled. "How did you know I was here?"

"A tracking spell. Easy and rather handy if one's brother has the tendency to get lost."

"So what are you? Mutant? Wizard? Alien? Norse god?" he asked, adding the last once just because he remembered what the Alayaya and the other guy were talking about. "I demand an answer."

"All four of them. But not a wizard. A sorcerer."

Okay, maybe he wasn't exactly expecting _this _answer.

"And your name isn't Luke O'brian either, right?"

"Right." Tony wiped the blood from his neck. He was lucky that the vampire didn't cut his neck when... Luke surprised him.

Well. Actually them.

"So what is your name?"

"Loki, son of Odin, Second Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief and Fire and Advisor of the Crown Prince."

"All of that, or simply Loki and the rest were just showing off?"

"Simply Loki."

"So you were showing off. Oh, god..."

"Correction; gods. Depending on what you want to speak about. There are the demigods, what your people worshiped in the prehistoric and ancient times and the One-Above-All, who sometimes is called Jahve, Allah or God, for simplicity. In both case the term '"god" is correct, for the One-Above-All simply created... Everything and ever since the lot of us had been running the universe."

"And you didn't get rid of those... Things? They were vampires, were they not?"

"We aren't allowed to extinguish a whole race. Those of us who do will be destroyed completely once they die, neither getting into Valhalla, nor being offered the chance to be born again. Besides, we aren't invincible. We can be hurt. But it takes a lot of effort."

"Fantastic. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Yes. Many things in the universe could demolish your people with a wave of their hand; but don't worry, you're not at the bottom of the food chain."

"That made me feel a lot better."

The next five minutes were spent in silence, before Tony spoke again.

"So. What do you think about a truce?"

* * *

**Fantastic. It seems like the epidemic of not getting alerted by e-mails in case of faws/follows/reviews has reached me, too.**

**Also, it is amazing when words disappear from my active vocabulary and appear in the passive. I had to look up the word truce, even though I have used it often in not posted stories!**


End file.
